


Relapse

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 17:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tauriel returns to Kíli for another quick romp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relapse

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Omega Tauriel with quiet Alpha Kili...can be set in any AU..in/out heat writers choice” prompt on [The Hobbit Kink Meme](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/14338.html?thread=25894146#t25894146).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

She wanted to experience her heat in the Greenwood, her home, but with a mate she loves _so very much_ , it isn’t surprising that they never made it that far. Instead, her beloved mate is tucked into a warm bed in the rebuilt Dale, exhausted from her fire. Having thoroughly spent herself and now calmed down enough to keep her clothes on for more than five minutes, Tauriel finds herself in the marketplace, collecting food to make her alpha a proper meal. Most of the storekeepers try to give her things for free when they recognize her—one of those that fought for them in the battle and kept the elves protecting them, and one of those who stayed behind to help aid in the repairs. But she pays the fair price, having the wealth of Erebor’s prince in her pocket. 

She’s rifling through celery when it hits again—a sudden stab of warmth that twist below her skin. It snakes its way down her torso, peaking in her breasts and the valley between her legs, twisting up to force a groan out of her throat. She nearly drops the celery, wanting to gasp and stumble back, but years of training keep her hands steady. She places the fresh produce carefully back amidst the pile, flashing the owner a friendly smile, and then she quickly disappears back into the busy crowd. The bag of produce slung over her shoulder suddenly seems inordinately cumbersome—one more piece of fabric that hides her sensitive skin. She tugs at her collar, long fingers slipping below the hem to rub over her chest, as she heads quickly for the guesthouse they’re renting. She doesn’t want to bother Kíli—she rode him straight through last night, sucked and stroked and rubbed against him all the day before, never once leaving his side for the last couple in a row. She’s only barely slept, only eaten the few things he managed to trick down her throat by placing food along his own body, yet this morning, she felt refreshed, sure the insatiable lust had past. 

Yet now, when she shuts her eyes, even for a moment, she can see _Kíli_ behind them, beckoning her to bed. Each step she takes makes her feel all the more _empty_ —she should have him _inside her_ , and she wants his voice in her ear. She barely sees the people she rushes past, barely takes note of the streets. Instinct drives her. She can smell him, even at this distance. She knows where her alpha is, and her body takes her there, called along and invisible thread, until she’s nearly ramming down a door and tossing her bag aside. 

She’s up the stairs in a heartbeat, taking two at a time, slipping out of her coat before she’s even reached the door at the end. She doesn’t want to bother him but _she has to_. She can’t _stand_ not being a part of him. The closer she gets, the more powerful the stench of him is, pheromones like a net that have her trapped. It takes all of her restraint to open the door quietly instead of forcefully, and then she’s gliding along the stone floor, stepping out of her form-fitting boots along the way. She peels her tight tunic over her head as soon as her knees are on the mattress, and then she’s shedding herself of the tights she’s already started to leak into—she’s wet again, ripe with _want_. Need. Kíli lies innocently away from her, facing the window, snoring softly, as only a dwarf would. His dark hair is a sweat-matted mess along the pillow, broad shoulders only slightly less pink than they were yesterday. She can see the grooves of her fingers where she dug into him too hard. His own marks are all over her body. 

Naked, Tauriel slips fluidly beneath the covers. She comes to Kíli’s back, wrapping wantonly around him, her thin arms circling his thick middle, her hands stroking insistently over his taut chest. There’s a slight scratch of dark hairs that she hungrily tugs at, her palms finding his nipples. Her round hips press into the back of his, the slit between her legs already dribbling and spreading that wetness to the firm cheeks of his ass. She wraps her slender, hairless legs around his stouter, rougher ones. She melds into Kíli, trying to make them _one_. 

She wanted to wake him first. But she can’t help but nuzzle into him as she mewls, “Kíli,” repeating his name over and over in a husky, breathless plea. Her hips canter into him, only increasing when she hears him yawn. 

He looks over his shoulder to groggily murmur, “Tauriel?” She leans up onto her elbow, twisting down to kiss him, flattening their mouths together even though his breath is stale. She licks at his lips all the same, feeling him smile. She doesn’t give up until he turns away from her, settling back onto his pillow to sigh through a fond grin, “How is it that the Elven places I’ve been to aren’t crawling with children, with stamina like yours?”

“Perhaps they simply don’t have such alluring alphas,” Tauriel purrs, nipping at his strangely rounded ear. Kíli chuckles, rolling back around to kiss her, and this time he slips his tongue into her mouth, tasting her back. 

As he rolls around to face her, she murmurs, “I’m sorry. I know you’re worn out.” But she just _wants him so desperately_. He smells like _pure sex_. And he looks so fiercely handsome, no matter what other, foolish elves might say. She’s never seen anyone so attractive as her Kíli, and as they kiss again, she lifts her hand to trace the contours of his face and the stubble along his jaw. She doesn’t mind the scratch of it. She’s come to love his Dwarven quirks. She loves everything about him. 

She can barely stop herself from running her hands down his body and grasping his short, fat cock. One of his meaty hands grabs her hips to hold her back from humping against it, and she obediently stays in his grasp even as she whimpers in protest. “You need to learn that a Dwarven alpha always takes care of his omega,” Kíli tells her with a grin. He places another kiss on her mouth, much harder than before, then pulls away to kiss her chin. 

He tilts it up with his thick, curled fingers, and he pecks her throat, down to her collarbone. Pushing her flat onto her back, he straddles her, trailing kisses down between her breasts, straying once to each side to quickly suckle at her nipples. Every little suck makes her moan and arch into him, one of her hands threading in his hair and the other fisting in the sheets. Her breasts are already sore from the treatment he gave her yesterday, stroking, nipping, licking, sucking her to no end, because she kept begging for more. Again, the little tinges of pain somehow twist into pleasure in her heat-addled mine, and she whines when he makes it down to her ribs, leaving her wet breasts to strain in the air. He’s tugging the sheets back, giving himself more room, and then he’s licking down her stomach, dipping into her bellybutton to swirl his tongue. 

Legolas always says she committed herself to a dwarf too fast. She’s never regretted it. Sometimes, she thinks she should’ve done it sooner—she wants every last second with Kíli that she can have.

His last kiss lands between her legs, and Tauriel cries out, bucking up to slam into his mouth. He grabs her thighs just in time, forcing her down—one of the few men she’s ever met that can match her strength, if not yet her skill. He gives her an amused, scolding look, and she tries to be good, tries to keep her hips down and still, though it’s so very _difficult_ with his handsome head between her legs. 

He licks her, first, one solid line down her moist lips, gathering her juices up into his mouth. When he runs back up, he dips shallowly between the folds, laving his tongue over the small numb of her clit, and a spark of extra pleasure shoots up Tauriel’s spine. He laps at it several times before he locks his lips around it, sucking at it, teeth almost scraping, just a little bit _rough_. As soon as he releases her again, he’s waving his tongue back down, zigzagging deeper into her, curling around to trace the sides. Her fingers twist in his hair, but she doesn’t let herself grab him and hold him down like she wants; he’s better when he has his freedom. He knows just how to please her, reads her perfectly, reacts to all her wants and varies his touches, licking and nipping and pushing ever deeper, until he’s probing at her hole and bidding her to open. She deliberately stretches herself wide, letting him in, and he snakes inside as far as he can reach, making her writhe in the white sheets. She’s a panting mess already. While his tongue slurps greedily at her hole, he shifts his grip on her thighs, holding one down and the other hand pulling back to run down and cup her ass. 

She whines when he pulls out of her, but she knows it’s only to get his fingers set up. He lifts his chin to bury against her clit, giving room for his thumb to massage her spongy lips. She moans, “Kíli,” again, not even sure what she’s begging for. Just more of him, perhaps. He smirks around his mouthful, peering up at her between the valley of her breasts, and she quivers in his grip, wanting to ride his whole face. If he weren’t holding her down, she probably would. 

But he’s careful to keep her still as he pushes his finger into her, crooking it to rub at every angle, his tongue going wild at her tip. He even manages to get his forefinger inside her, up against her dripping hole, while his mouth stays locked around its target. There’s a wet squelching noise as he pushes inside, and she shivers around him—his fingers are so _thick_. He has an easy time slipping in, because she’s so very wet and keeps sucking at him, and then he’s sliding out again, to her pained whimper. He’s barely done before he thrusts in to the knuckle, and Tauriel cries out, tossing her head back in the pillows. Kíli starts to faithfully finger her, thrusting in and out both quick and hard, while his eager tongue takes care of her outsides. Even if it weren’t for the heat, she would’ve rushed back if she’d known she could have this—he’s too _good_ at it. He gives her pleasure so easily. He makes her croon and ache and tremble with delight, chest heaving as her pulse rises ever more rapidly, her flesh broiling hot. He’s _so good_ , and worse, she loves him _so much_ —it’s too overwhelming to take—

She screams surprisingly fast, her thighs tensing and her toes curling against the mattress, pussy clenching tight around his finger. Kíli slams that finger home and writhes it inside her as she comes, his mouth on one continues suck around her clit. A river of new juices gushes out around his finger, soaking into his light beard, but he doesn’t at all look like he minds. The look he gives her is burning, and Tauriel tries to moan his name again, but her voice is too breathless to be intelligible. 

He doesn’t relinquish his hold until the last of the spasms have wracked her body, and she’s lying, spent and limp, along the stained sheets. He places a chaste kiss above her pussy when he’s finished. Then he wipes his mouth crudely on his sleeve, and he comes to crawl up her body. 

Over top of her, he kisses her cheek, asking in a hushed, soothing voice, “How do you feel?” 

“Wonderful,” she sighs, impressed with herself for being able to form even one word coherently. He smiles and kisses her again, brushing red hair back behind her ear. 

He slumps off her and lands at her side, one leg still hooked over her body. Snuggling into the crook of her neck, he yawns and mutters, “I’m going back to sleep.”

She smiles but doesn’t have the energy to laugh. She kisses his forehead because it’s the easiest part of him to reach, murmuring, “I love you.” It takes a moment to add, “But I should get back to making your evening meal.”

“Stay a little longer, just in case your desire returns,” he insists, “and I love you too.”

She can already feel him falling back to sleep. Her own tornado is slowly dying down, her senses coming back to her, calmed in the heady wake of sex. She latches onto him as tightly as she can manage. She thinks of returning to the market, but ultimately, she obeys her alpha, not ready yet to leave his side.


End file.
